


From the Other Side

by scribblemoose



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-08
Updated: 2008-05-08
Packaged: 2017-10-08 21:16:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/79588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemoose/pseuds/scribblemoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gojyo learns some things about Sanzo... and himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From the Other Side

Gojyo leaned back in his chair and looked around the inn, weighing up his options. Hakkai was trying to teach Goku a new card game, and because the monkey was stupid and Hakkai was infinitely patient, it was taking a long time. The tables around them were mostly empty, just a few clusters of people who looked like locals and, in one corner, a drunk who looked like the kind of drunk you got in most towns. Some sad story to it, no doubt, but Gojyo didn't want to hear it. The world was full of sad stories, and sad drunks, and Gojyo was just grateful he'd kept himself from following the poor guy's path himself.

Keen to avoid such morbid thoughts, Gojyo redirected his attention to the more lively inhabitants of the bar. The serving girl had seemed promising, until he noticed her engagement ring. It was too soon since the last enraged fiancé incident for Gojyo to risk infuriating Sanzo that way again. He still had a tiny scrap of hair missing from his scalp where Sanzo's bullet had got a wee bit too close for comfort. The serving girl was the only female in the inn, though, as far as Gojyo could work out.

This place really wasn't any fun at all.

Gojyo sighed and drained his glass, then reached into his pocket for his cigarettes. His pocket was empty. Damnit, that last one had been the end of the pack. He wondered if he had any upstairs in their room, but he was pretty certain he was out.

"There's a vending machine just up the street that sells cigarettes," Hakkai said. "No, Goku, you need to have a pair ready to exchange before you can put down."

"A pair of what?" Goku said, frowning at his hand of cards.

"Any two cards of the same number. Let's go over it again...."

It was about the sixth time tonight Gojyo had heard Hakkai explain the pairs rule, so he decided to go and investigate the vending machine theory.

As usual, Hakkai was right, and this was one of the occasions that Gojyo was particularly pleased about it. The machine even had his favourite brand, and wasn't too horribly expensive. He stood in the street and stripped the pack of its cellophane, staring up at the stars. It was a nice night, the sky clear but the air still warm. There were a billion stars up there, tiny pinpricks of light and in the middle the moon, swollen and heavy, almost full. Gojyo blew a stream of smoke towards it, as if in salute. He was suddenly aware of how quiet it was. No monkey yammering on at him, no youkai yelling for Sanzo's sutra, no bullets whizzing past his ear. No nagging from Hakkai, no rumbling of the road beneath Jeep's wheels. Just the soft hoot of a distant owl and the silence of all those stars.

Gojyo leaned against the vending machine and smoked for a while, enjoying the unexpected peace. He must be getting old.

But still, he was in no rush to get back to the inn.

His cigarette was nearly done when an unexpected sound penetrated the quiet. Breathing. No, more like moaning, as if someone was in pain. Suddenly alert, Gojyo flicked the stub of his cigarette to the ground and went to investigate. There was an alley nearby, between two shops, one of which was a fishmongers if the smell from the dumpsters was anything to go by. Gojyo called his shaku-jo and crept into the shadows.

The sound was louder now. A deep, painful moan followed by a fierce hissing noise.

Gojyo moved further into the alley, stealthy as a panther. His eyes were getting adjusted to the dark now, and he could make out a moving shape a few yards ahead. He tightened his grip on the shaft of his shaku-jo.

Another deep, heavy moan, and then actual words. "Shut up, you moron. I told you to be quiet."

Gojyo froze. He knew that voice.

"Can't help it," muttered the other, the moaning one. "Feels so damn good."

"It'll feel like it's shot full of holes if you don't shut up."

"Ungh!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, shit for brains, did you just..."

"Couldn't help it... ungh... feels so good..."

"Not on me! Shit!"

Gojyo stepped backwards in shock and horror, straight into a clatter of dustbins. He barely caught himself in time to stop himself falling on his arse, and he could only hope that he was too far away to be recognised. There was a sort of scuffle going on as the owners of both voices rearranged clothing and exchanged a few more barked sentences. If either of them was panicked at the possibility of being observed, it didn't show. They seemed, as far as he could tell, to assume it was just a cat.

He melted back into a convenient doorway, the sound of his own pulse pounding in his ears, and watched two men emerge from the dark corner of the alley and go their separate ways.

He waited until Sanzo was all the way back to the street before he even breathed.

*

Back at the inn he found things much as he'd left them. The bar was still full of boring locals, Hakkai was still teaching Goku about pairs and the serving girl was still wearing an engagement ring. The only difference was that she was talking to Sanzo, who looked more than averagely pissed off.

Gojyo returned to their table, where he lit another cigarette and poured himself beer from the fresh pitcher that had arrived in his absence. "Found the machine," he told Hakkai. "Thanks."

Hakkai smiled absently at him, his concentration on his hand of cards.

Gojyo took a long drag of his cigarette and glanced over at the bar. The serving girl was giving Sanzo a towel and a key. He must be on his way to the bath-house. It was a small, drafty building at the back of the inn, which Gojyo had visited earlier. Not exactly the height of luxury, but the water had been hot and it felt good to get his hair clean again.

He had a sudden flash of why exactly Sanzo would want to get clean, and nearly choked on his beer. It was sinking in, past the shock, bit by bit, what he'd seen in the alley.

"Hey, Hakkai," he said, voice low and conspiratorial. Then he got a glimpse of Goku's eyes over his cards, huge and golden. Inquisitive.

"Yes, Gojyo?"

"Uh, nothin'. See the monk's going for a bath."

"Yes," said Hakkai. "Ah, that's much better, Goku! Now you can pick up three new cards."

Goku gave a little squeak of excitement, and took three cards from the stack in between the two of them. He didn't take them from the top, but he didn't look at them first, either, so Hakkai was clearly making some progress.

Gojyo sat back and carefully didn't watch Sanzo leave the room to go and take his bath. He carefully didn't think about what Sanzo might be washing, or what he might be thinking about while he soaked in the hot tub. He very carefully thought about girls, and what a shame it was that the serving girl was taken.

Eventually he'd drunk enough beer that he didn't have to think about anything very much at all. And then he staggered up the stairs to his room and went to sleep.

*

Next morning Gojyo was dragged out of bed by Goku, who was keen to let him know that he'd eaten ten sausages, a plateful of bacon, five huge eggs and a mound of fried bread as tall as himself for breakfast. Vaguely nauseated by the thought of food in general, never mind all that grease, Gojyo struggled to his feet, scratched his scalp through tangles of messy hair, and lit a cigarette. "Well, it's _your_ arteries you're clogging up, stomach-for-brains."

"I don't have any aunties," said Goku, confused.

"Never mind. Is His Holy Baldness up yet?"

"Sanzo's still drinking tea with Hakkai." Goku pulled his bag out from under his bed and started to stuff his few possessions into it. "He said something about waiting for laundry. Aren't you having breakfast? Did you drink too much?"

"No," Gojyo said, reflexively. "I'm just more careful about what I put in my body than you, that's all." He stroked his perfectly-flat, tight stomach with a shade of pride. "See? Lean and mean. You'll get a pot belly if you keep eating all that junk."

"You should give up smoking, then," Goku said, slyly. "Hakkai says-"

"Never mind what Hakkai says. Hakkai doesn't know everything." Although he was pretty certain that Hakkai did, in fact. He certainly seemed to know far more about Gojyo than Gojyo would really have preferred.

He wondered if Hakkai knew what Sanzo had been doing in the alley last night.

"You alright, Gojyo?" Goku's huge eyes blinked at him. "You've gone white. A bit greenish, kinda. You're not gonna hurl, are you?"

"No," said Gojyo. "Shut up."

"Told you you shouldn't drink that much."

"It's none of your business, idiot monkey."

"It is when you keep me awake snoring all night."

"Ha! How the fuck would you know? You're out like a light the minute you fall into bed and you make a noise like a fucking _chainsaw_!"

The door slammed open and Sanzo stood there, glowering. Hakkai was just behind him, carrying armfuls of laundry.

"Shut up," Sanzo growled. "I could hear you half way down the stairs."

Gojyo's heart was racing. He felt lightheaded and he couldn't take his eyes off Sanzo, even though he really didn't want to be looking at him at all.

Hakkai murmured something soothing as he slipped into the room. He distracted Goku by giving him laundry to fold, while Gojyo stared helplessly at Sanzo and Sanzo glared at Gojyo. But Sanzo appeared for all the world to still be the uptight virgin pillar of chastity he'd been the day before.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" Sanzo said.

_A whore who fucks strangers in back alleys_. "Nothing, oh Bald One."

Sanzo made a noise somewhere between a hiss and a spit, and shoved past him to move into the room.

"I'll be downstairs with Jeep," said Gojyo.

*

The day passed in the usual routine of life on the road: long stretches of bouncing over hard, packed-dirt roads interspersed with infrequent bathroom breaks, frequent feeding-Goku breaks and unscheduled youkai-fighting breaks. Such was the rhythm of the day that Gojyo had become used to over the past couple of years, and it was reassuring in its own way. Sanzo was still Sanzo, bad-tempered, mean and so pretty it hurt to look at him sometimes. The memory of that encounter in the dark alley was hard to reconcile with all this normality, and receded into the growing cluster of stuff labelled 'weird' in Gojyo's mind as he resolved to do his best to forget it altogether.

They reached the next town just as the sun was setting, casting low, limestone buildings in shades of red and gold. Market stalls ranged down the centre of the main street, flanked by shops and other businesses, including a large inn. On their way in they'd passed empty cattle pens and barns; it looked as if the place had been a proper market town before the minus wave.

Hakkai was in a hurry to get some shopping done before the traders shut up shop for the day, and insisted that Gojyo trail after him. For once, Gojyo didn't mind: partly because it was a good opportunity to eye up the local talent, but mainly because Sanzo was in a foul mood and Goku was particularly hungry and whiny. Sometimes they deserved each other.

The market cheered Gojyo up considerably. There were fresh apples, cheap cigarettes, and a stall selling a local brew that wasn't quite cider, and wasn't quite lighter-fluid, but a warm, mellow, kick-ass liquid that felt like honey in your mouth and then burned all the way down, leaving a satisfying glow in your guts. Hakkai was impressed with it, too, and Gojyo left the stall laden with a heavy bag that clinked in a very encouraging manner.

The inn was busy, full of noisy traders and the few local farmers who still made it to town on market day. Gojyo helped Hakkai to stow their supplies upstairs in their rooms before they joined Sanzo and Goku downstairs. The food was good, and the beer flowed freely. For once there was no shortage of girls, either. Gojyo's eye kept returning in particular to the table next to theirs, which was occupied by a group of females so raucous that he and Goku were having a hard time hearing each other yell. A moderate amount of eavesdropping revealed that they were a group of sisters who had lost their parents, brothers and uncles to the youkai a year or so ago. Now they ran the family farm themselves, and that included fighting off random bands of youkai and the occasional wild animal. Gojyo recognised the determination and the strong, wiry bodies of people who knew what it meant to cling to life by a thread, and were driven by the deep-seated instinct to keep themselves from ever being in such a vulnerable situation again.

One of them caught his attention in particular: the second to youngest of the four of them, at a guess. She had red-brown hair that fell in waves over her shoulders, and skin the colour of buttermilk. She was quieter than the others (if not exactly shy and retiring), and when she was sure Gojyo was looking she gave him a long, slow wink.

Gojyo ran the tip of his tongue over his lips and grinned his sexiest, most wolfish grin.

He heard Sanzo tutting, but it was as if he were a long, long way away. Besides. He didn't have the moral high ground any more. If he could go chasing tail down back alleys, why shouldn't Gojyo get a little guilt-free action for himself? At least he didn't lie about it.

Thinking about Sanzo was threatening to challenge Gojyo's good mood, so he picked up his full pint of beer and his cigarettes, and muttered something about catching up with the others later. Goku asked where he was going, clueless as ever, but Gojyo left it to Hakkai and Sanzo to explain to him. Gojyo had more pressing matters to attend to.

He tugged a chair up to the next table, still grinning, and tossed his hair back over his shoulders. "Hi," he said. "You from around here?"

She kept a straight face, except for the faintest hint of a dimple in one smooth cheek. "Home Farm," she said. "And you're definitely _not _from around here, are you?"

"Oh no," said Gojyo, picking up her hand. "I'm from a long, long way away. And what's more," he kissed her palm, "I'll be gone tomorrow."

"That's sad," she said.

He heard one of her sisters taking the piss somewhere in the background, but Gojyo knew when he'd scored, and not much else mattered to him at that moment. "Can I buy you a drink? Maybe somewhere more quiet?"

"If you like," she said. "Where did you have in mind?"

"Have you got a room upstairs?"

"My, you're forward. I think I'd like to get to know you a little better first. How about that corner over there, near the bar?"

Gojyo considered this a win: it implied she did have a room to herself (which was more than he could offer) and she hadn't hit him or run off screaming yet. Considering his luck of late, this was all looking very promising indeed.

He took her hand as she got up from her seat, and let her lead him away.

The place was busy enough that there wasn't really anywhere quiet, but the corner she took him to was darkish, at least, and away from the main thoroughfare between the door, the bar and the toilets. She was drinking a dark rum poured over ice with a dash of cream; a drink Gojyo had never encountered before that was apparently called a Dark Witch. It wasn't to his taste, but she knocked it back quickly and it seemed to be particularly effective at removing any inhibitions she may have had. Two drinks later and he had his tongue down her throat and his hand up her shirt.

He was just considering how best to persuade her to show him her room when he caught a flash of something out of the corner of his eye. Gold. Golden. Golden hair.

Sanzo. Talking quietly with a man Gojyo had never seen before.

Gojyo kept kissing the girl, and tilted her head a little to the left so he could see properly.

"Mmm... Gojyo..."

Sanzo was heading for the door.

Gojyo nuzzled into the girl's neck, casting a glance back at the table where Hakkai sat reading a book. Gojyo couldn't be sure but it looked as if Goku had actually curled up and gone to sleep in the window seat. Wonders would never cease.

Sanzo had gone now. Gojyo watched carefully for him to return, clever fingers teasing the girl's nipple, clever mouth making sure the pretty little sighs she was giving him didn't stop.

A couple of minutes later, the guy Sanzo had been talking to came up to the bar. He wasn't buying drinks, either. He talked earnestly to the barman for a moment or two and slipped a small fistful of notes over the counter. The barman slipped him a key.

He was just booking a room, Gojyo told himself. That's all it was. The guy was staying at the inn. The place was packed with people, all here for their own reasons. There was no reason to assume that any of these strangers had anything to do with Sanzo. Lucky bastards.

Except the man didn't go upstairs. He went outside.

"Gojyo?"

Shit. His concentration had lapsed. "Sorry," he purred. "You're a great kisser. You've got me so horny my brain's given up."

Pretty feeble as excuses went, but she was clearly in a gullible frame of mind. "Poor Gojyo. You want to go somewhere private?"

Gojyo nodded firmly, and tugged her close. "Upstairs?" He nuzzled her neck again, breathing in her scent, tonguing her ear.

"Sorry. I'm sharing with my sisters."

"Shit. I'm sharing too."

"It's okay. Go to the barman and ask for a blue pass."

"A blue pass?"

"He rents rooms out the back by the hour."

"Oh." It wasn't a new concept to Gojyo, exactly, but he hadn't come across it outside of the bigger towns. "Oh! Right."

"I'll go freshen up," she said, hopping off her bar stool with a pretty smile. "You get the room."

Gojyo gave her a little wave and did as she'd asked. The barman was very businesslike and efficient, and soon Gojyo held a small blue key in his hand. But all he could think about was Sanzo.

He tried to tell himself it didn't mean anything. There were a million reasons why that man had left the inn. Even if he had hired a room, like Gojyo had just that minute done himself, it didn't mean he was going to take Sanzo there. It could be anyone. Fuck.

But Gojyo couldn't get the image out of his mind, and when the girl came back from the bathroom it took all his willpower to smile at her and hold out his hand and wink.

She winked back, and giggled, and took his hand.

*

Her name was Jikita, she was twenty years old and she was sweet and hot and very willing. For a while Gojyo managed to forget about Sanzo and lose himself in her soft, welcoming body. After they'd made love for the second time she drifted off to sleep, and Gojyo sat on the end of the narrow bed, smoking, and it was only then...

... then he thought about Sanzo.

It was getting to be like a nightmare. As if he needed any more of those.

It's not like he gave a fuck what Sanzo did. It was none of his business. It was just annoying, because Sanzo was so fucking patronising and holier-than-thou, and such a bastard about it when Gojyo tried to get laid. It was another layer of hypocrisy.

_Some fucking monk_, Gojyo thought, and chuckled bitterly to himself.

He looked around the bare walls, tempted to stay; he'd paid for the night (on Sanzo's card, of course). The rooms were small, cabin-like affairs clustered around the back of the inn like a miniature village. They were surprisingly clean, lit with candles, and there was a tiny bathroom screened off in the corner. Gojyo had lived in worse places.

Probably wouldn't meet Sanzo-sama's exacting standards, but then again, he'd been happy enough to fuck in a filthy alley, so....

Gojyo's gut twisted at the thought, and he sucked angrily on his cigarette. He didn't know what he was feeling, but he didn't like it. It made him pissed off and nauseous when he should be feeling calm and happy and postcoital, and it was all Sanzo's fault.

Twenty minutes later he covered the still-sleeping Jikita with a blanket, kissed her on the forehead and stepped back out into the night.

He lit a fresh cigarette and walked slowly back towards the inn. He was lost in his own thoughts until he caught movement from the corner of his eye; his senses tingled, alert for attack, but none came. It was just someone coming out of one of the other rooms.

He knew, even as he turned to look, who it was.

"Sanzo," he said, his voice coming out in a squeak, like he hadn't spoken for days.

There was no disguising the look on Sanzo's face. He changed it quickly into his usual sullen glare, but it was too late. Gojyo had caught a glimpse of what was underneath and it was intriguing and horrifying all at once.

Sanzo had looked _scared_.

"Finished already?" Sanzo sneered, and Gojyo didn't think, didn't process anything beyond the fact that Sanzo had some fucking _nerve_, and next thing he knew he had Sanzo pinned up against a tree, his arm across Sanzo's throat, clutching at the shoulder of his robe. The sutra rustled and fizzed against Gojyo's clenched-white knuckles, and Sanzo glowered.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Sanzo's voice was annoyingly, stupidly calm, and he wasn't even trying to fight back.

"_What the fuck_," Gojyo said, doing a bad imitation of Sanzo's quiet outrage, "makes you think you can take a shot at me when you're just as fucking bad?"

"As bad as you?" Sanzo sneered. "I don't-"

Gojyo yanked Sanzo's shoulder and slammed him back into the rough bark of the tree. "You fucking _hypocrite._"

Now Sanzo looked bothered. His throat moved as he swallowed; he blinked his eyes in a slow, gold-lashed blink. "Let me go, idiot."

"Not until you tell me how long this has been going on."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me," Gojyo growled.

Sanzo went for his gun, but Gojyo was ready; he caught Sanzo's wrist and dragged it down, unbalancing him. A short struggle and Gojyo held both of Sanzo's wrists hard above his head. He moved in close. Sanzo's pulse was throbbing underneath Gojyo's fingers.

"Let me go, or I'll kill you," Sanzo said, but he wasn't as calm as usual about it. He didn't sound like he meant it, either.

"You're right," Gojyo said. "It isn't any of my business. But that never stopped you passing judgement on me, did it?"

"You can do what you like. Don't get the mistaken idea that I give a shit."

"Then why all the comments? The disapproving looks? Say you don't care all you like, you're only fooling yourself."

Sanzo looked away. "It's better than killing you," he spat.

"Great," said Gojyo. "With friends like you, who needs enemies?"

"I'm not your friend," said Sanzo.

The familiar sting of rejection took Gojyo's motivation clean away, and he loosened his hold. Sanzo braced himself, but he didn't try to get away. "Of course. I'm just part of the mission. I remember now. And what about that guy you fucked tonight? Was he part of the mission?"

"I don't know what-"

"Or the one last night, in the alley? Tell me, Sanzo-sama, why did you have to get your robes washed again?"

He grinned a very nasty grin at Sanzo, and stepped back, letting go. Sanzo's arms fell back to his sides, and one hand reached into his robes, but he didn't pull out his gun. Just a cigarette, which he proceeded to light, for all the world as if Gojyo wasn't there at all.

The glow of his match brought his golden hair to life from the darkness. It fell across one eye, soft and fair and beautiful. Gojyo ached inside.

Slowly, bit by bit, things settled into place in Gojyo's mind, and realisation dawned. This wasn't about winding Sanzo up or taking advantage of a sudden leap in his comparative moral standing. He was jealous. He wanted Sanzo for himself.

"Shit," he said. Sanzo raised an eyebrow, and shook out the match.

Gojyo stormed off back to the inn without another word.

*

Goku sat in his usual seat at Gojyo's side in the back of Jeep, watching for Sanzo to come back, fidgeting. He looked out over the static landscape of rocks and sandy dirt, interspersed with the occasional sorry-looking shrub, and sighed. "I'm hungry," he said.

"You just had breakfast," Gojyo said half-heartedly.

"Yes, but I didn't eat much. We left half way through."

"You ate more than the rest of us put together, idiot monkey."

"That's easy. You hardly touched yours and Sanzo didn't eat anything at all."

"Shut up, Goku."

"You shut up."

"No, _you_ shut up."

They were both quiet for a moment, staring out at the wilderness.

"Sanzo's in a very bad mood today," Goku said, eventually.

"So what's new?" Gojyo muttered.

"Worse 'n usual."

"He's taking forever going for a piss, too," said Gojyo.

"Should we go after him? Maybe he ran into some youkai?" Goku looked disturbingly eager at the prospect.

Hakkai piped up from the driver's seat. "I'm sure he's fine. He really hasn't been gone that long." He was scrutinising the map. "It looks like we should be able to make it to the next town before sunset."

"Good," said Gojyo. He really didn't fancy sleeping under the stars with Sanzo at the moment.

As if on cue, Sanzo returned, climbing back into his place without so much as a glance at the back seat.

"Are you alright, Sanzo?" Goku asked. "Were there youkai?"

"What do you think, idiot?"

Goku sighed. "We haven't been attacked for ages. I'm bored."

"Fighting will only make you hungrier," said Sanzo. "Sit still and shut up."

Jeep rumbled into life, and the journey went on.

*

By late afternoon the heat was starting to get to Gojyo. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, just endless, brilliant blue, and the sun beat down on them mercilessly.

"What's the matter, kappa?" Goku jeered. "Has the saucer on your head dried up?"

Gojyo's hand went reflexively to his scalp. His hair was so hot he wondered why he hadn't caught fire. "Fuck off, Monkey."

Sanzo was probably feeling the heat too, under all those robes. Had to get sticky under there. Gojyo hoped there'd be baths at wherever they fetched up that night; or better still, showers. It had been a fair while since he'd had a proper, neck-pounding shower. Mmm. Cool water, not cold enough to shock, just lukewarm, nice and soothing on tired muscles. Slicking down blond hair, running in tiny rivers over long limbs and that strong, straight back. There would be one golden strand clinging to perfect cheekbones, purple eyes glittering through wet lashes.

Goku nudged Gojyo in the ribs. "Hey! I said pass me the water, stupid kappa!"

Shit. Had he really just...

Oh, shit.

"Get it yourself."

"That's stupid! It's right there!"

"You need the exercise."

"Ha! You're the one who's getting fat!"

"Not an ounce spare on the G-man, idiot-monkey. You're the one who's getting a pot belly."

"I'm not!" Goku pulled up his shirt to examine his perfect six-pack. "I'm not. Am I, Sanzo? Sanzo, Gojyo said I'm fat!"

"Shut up!"

The fan came down cleanly on Goku's head with a sharp crack. Goku yelled his righteous indignation, and got another crack.

"Keep that up, Sanzo-sama," Gojyo said. "It makes a nice breeze. About time you put that fan to the use it was intended for."

It caught him clean across the shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, but Gojyo figured it was worth it.

*

The closer they got to the town, the bigger the ball of anxiety in Gojyo's stomach grew. The sun would be setting soon. They'd arrive at the town, hopefully find it peaceful and free of youkai or any mysterious goings-on, and check into whatever hotel or inn Sanzo decided was good enough for his Holy self. There would be a brief scuffle over rooms, depending on how many were available. They'd eat, and drink, maybe play cards or mah jong.

And then what?

What if Sanzo went out on the prowl again? Did he do it every night? How long for?

How many men had Sanzo fucked in alley ways and rented rooms and who knew where else? What were they like? What was his type?

_Why_?

And of course, the most terrible, cursed question or all: _why not me_?

Gojyo wasn't used to this feeling. Everyone lived their own life. Nobody owned anyone else. Banri had been with other men when they were together, and Gojyo hadn't blinked an eye.

Gojyo knew this weird, nasty feeling was jealousy. He wasn't an idiot (whatever Sanzo said). But it had no business setting up shop in his gut. It made him cranky and unattractive. And the fact that he was jealous of Sanzo in particular meant a whole load of other shit that Gojyo really didn't want to look square in the eye. He didn't want to look _Sanzo_ square in the eye.

But inevitably they did arrive at the town, which was indeed peaceful and apparently free of youkai or any other nasty side-effects of the minus wave, and they checked into a small hotel on the main street, which boasted a large bar and a restaurant that would cook just about anything you could fit in a wok. But Gojyo wasn't hungry. He pushed his noodles around his plate a bit, and kicked up a moderate level of fuss when Goku helped himself to thirds (and a genuine fuss when Goku dropped a lump of chicken in his beer), but he abandoned his plate half-full. Once dinner was over he followed the others to the bar of the inn and set about getting very drunk. But even that proved to be of little help. He found himself watching Sanzo every minute, waiting anxiously when he went to the bathroom, or went to buy cigarettes from the bar, in case he didn't come back. He was horribly relieved every time Sanzo returned without, apparently, scoring any tail.

Of course Sanzo noticed. He conveyed his noticing via a series of glares and eyebrow raisings that made Gojyo want to punch him in the face.

That helped quite a lot, actually. Fantasising about hitting Sanzo was infinitely less disturbing than the other things Gojyo had found himself fantasising about.

The alcohol wasn't settling well with Gojyo that night. He was usually a happy drunk, very occasionally a belligerent one, but this time he was heading for melancholy, so he decided to turn in for an early night. They were sharing a room between the four of them, but it was thankfully large, and as he was first up the stairs he at least got the pick of the beds. He chose one by the window, and sat there for a long time, smoking and looking at the night sky, until he heard Hakkai's familiar, soft footfall from the corridor.

Hakkai didn't seem surprised to find Gojyo still awake. He said hello, and started on his usual night-time routine, settling Hakuryuu on a plush cushion on the table by his bed, then slowly peeling off his clothes, folding them neatly into a pile on a chair. Finally down to his boxers, Hakkai pulled back the covers and slid into bed. He sat there for a moment, and Gojyo could feel his steady gaze from across the room. He couldn't help but turn his head to meet it. But Hakkai didn't say anything. He just nodded, as if he'd sorted out something that had been bothering him, and smiled - one of his nicer smiles, like the one he used when Gojyo had actually managed to wash the dishes. He said "Goodnight, Gojyo," then settled down under the covers. Hakuryuu made a small cheeping noise.

"G'night, Hakkai," Gojyo said.

Gojyo lay down and must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew the door was creaking open. Hakkai was asleep. Gojyo braced himself, instantly on alert, but it was only Sanzo. He carried a sleeping Goku in his arms.

Gojyo stayed still and watched as Sanzo expertly slid back the covers of the bed next to Gojyo with one hand, still balancing Goku over his shoulder with the other arm. Goku snored gently as Sanzo lay him on the bed, removed his boots and pulled the covers up as far as Goku's hips. Goku mumbled and snuggled into the pillow as Sanzo moved away to his side of the room and the last unoccupied bed. Gojyo watched, still and silent, as Sanzo took off the sutra, rolling it into its case and slipping it under his pillow. Then he slid his robe off his shoulders, past his hips to pool at his feet.

He looked more dangerous, somehow, in plain jeans and black sleeveless shirt. He was surprisingly well-muscled across the shoulders and belly; tight and lean, deceptively strong. Not as strong as Gojyo, but a lot stronger than he had been that first time they'd met, when he'd come to take Hakkai and Gojyo had pinned him to the ground after little more than a scuffle.

He could still remember how it felt, to have all that lithe, menacing power underneath him. The ridiculous softness of Sanzo's hair under his hand. The warmth of his body.

Gojyo closed his eyes and rolled onto his back.

Damn.

He lost track of time, and maybe he'd drifted back to sleep, but suddenly he heard the door again. He stayed still, working out the shape slipping through into the dimly lit corridor beyond. It was Sanzo.

_Probably going for a piss_, Gojyo told himself, and tried to settle back to sleep. But sleep didn't happen. All that happened was a deep, grinding conviction that Sanzo was out there somewhere being mauled by a stranger who didn't deserve him, and whom Sanzo was bound to despise.

Gojyo silently slipped from his bed, tugged on his jeans and boots, and left the room.

With a sinking feeling he noted that the bathroom up the hall was empty, and crept downstairs. The bar was in darkness, the reception desk deserted and dark except for one small lamp by the bell. The front door was slightly ajar.

Gojyo shivered at the sudden cold as he stepped outside. The stifling heat of the day had given way to the chill of a desert night, and he wished he'd thought to grab his shirt. Or, perhaps, to have had the good sense to stay in his warm bed and mind his own fucking business. But that, apparently, was impossible.

"Don't shut the door, moron. You'll lock us out."

Sanzo was leaning against the solid brick wall of the inn, smoking. He was wearing a soft cream sweater that was a little too big for him, falling slightly off one shoulder. It dawned on Gojyo that Sanzo wasn't out here for some midnight tryst after all, and that knowing this should mean that Gojyo could go back to bed and pretend his stupidity had been some kind of bad dream.

"What are you doing out here?" he said, instead.

Sanzo raised an eyebrow. "What does it look like?"

Sanzo must be mellowed by alcohol; there was only minimal snark in his voice. Gojyo remembered him putting Goku to bed, and his stomach flipped. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice coming out as a weird, strangled sort of noise.

"Of course I'm okay." Sanzo flipped his cigarette butt to the ground and stamped on it.

Suddenly Gojyo was afraid that Sanzo would simply go back inside and that would be the end of things. Or that he'd stalk off into the night to find another alley to fuck in. Never mind that it was three in the morning, Gojyo was pretty sure there would still be someone out there who'd be interested. The way Sanzo looked, there would _always_ be somebody.

That thought made him ridiculously angry.

"Can't sleep?" Gojyo said.

He watched the obvious scathing reply cross Sanzo's mind, but it didn't make it out of his mouth. "No," he said.

"Me neither." Gojyo stepped a little closer and got his cigarettes out. He shook a couple out of the packet and offered one to Sanzo.

Sanzo looked at him as if he'd gone insane. "You think I'd actually smoke one of your stinking brand?"

Gojyo could have sighed with relief. He wasn't sure what to do with a mellow Sanzo. "Suit yourself," he said, and tossed his cigarette into the air, catching the filter tip neatly between his teeth as it came down. By the time he'd flipped his lighter open Sanzo had produced a fresh cig from his own pack. Gojyo lit them both, and leaned back against the wall at Sanzo's side.

There was a long pause while they blew plumes of smoke up into the sky, and then Gojyo heard himself say, "why d'you do it, Sanzo?"

"Do what?" said Sanzo.

"Fuck strange men in alleys."

There was another pause, a long, long pause this time. Gojyo waited patiently, wondering if Sanzo had left his gun upstairs. He presumed so, seeing as there were no bullets flying through the air.

"Why do you fuck strange women?" Sanzo said, eventually.

"I'm a pervert," Gojyo replied, and couldn't help grinning. "I thought you'd worked that out by now."

Sanzo snorted and looked away, in that way he did when he didn't want to admit he was amused.

"You don't have to fuck trash like that," Gojyo said. "You could have anyone, pretty much. I thought you hated that shit. You're pretty quick to get the gun out when they paw at you."

Sanzo flicked the ash from his cigarette, watching the grey dust fall to the ground. "The ones you pay don't paw at you," he said. "If they do, they don't get paid."

Gojyo stared at Sanzo, wide-eyed with shock. "You go with whores?"

"Some things are better kept at a business level." There was a hard edge to Sanzo's voice that Gojyo really didn't like the sound of. It was cold and empty, his words a wall between him and things he didn't want to admit.

Gojyo recovered a little. He'd never had to pay for sex. Never wanted to, although he'd been tempted to put himself on the other side of the bargain when times were hard. But then, maybe it wasn't just sex, exactly, he was looking for. Not just the release or the momentary escape from whatever shit life was dealing him at the time. It was the warmth of another naked, vulnerable body; need and desire. It was a glimpse of what he imagined love might be like.

"You deserve better," he told Sanzo.

Sanzo looked at him as if he'd just told him pigs could fly.

"It's true," Gojyo mumbled.

"What the fuck does it matter to you?"

Anger rose swiftly, making Gojyo's body tense and his throat tight. "It's bizarre and upsetting, but I actually do give a shit. I know it's a shock - fuck knows it was a shock to me too - but there y'go. Shoot me all you like, send me back East, take the piss 'til you're blue in your pretty droopy-eyed face, but I don't like the idea of you getting cheap blow jobs in back alleys from ugly bastard whores. It's dangerous, and you're worth more than that."

Another pause, while Gojyo wondered how the fuck he would get home if Sanzo just ditched him here.

"Hand jobs," Sanzo said. "It's usually hand jobs. I don't like their teeth near me."

"What?" said Gojyo, convinced now that Sanzo must have left his gun upstairs, and quite possibly his brain.

Sanzo shrugged. "I don't like-"

"I heard what you said," snapped Gojyo. "Shit."

"We're never going to talk about this again," Sanzo said, that cold edge back in his voice, but that was almost preferable to the indifference. "So go on, get it all out of your system while you can. Anything else you want to know?"

In a second Gojyo had spun around to face Sanzo, one hand on the wall behind his head, so close he could feel the heat radiating from Sanzo's body. "Yes, Sanzo-sama, I do have a few questions. Like, where the fuck to you get off criticizing me when you have all these fucking dirty little secrets under those fancy robes of yours? How can you call me stupid when you're so fucked up you'd rather pay for sex than-"

He bit back the words, just in time.

"Than what?" Sanzo said.

Gojyo swallowed hard. He could feel the soft wool of Sanzo's jumper against his chest. He could feel Sanzo's breath on his cheek. He could see the surprise in Sanzo's eyes: rare, sharp surprise.

So Gojyo kissed him.

A hard, punishing kiss at first, more like a blow to Sanzo's mouth. Sanzo shoved him away, all brittle, explosive anger. But Gojyo wasn't about to give up now. He leaned in again, gentler this time, ignoring the determined clench of Sanzo's jaw and firm closure of his mouth and moving to his neck, his ear. He dropped a hand into Sanzo's hair and wove his fingers through it. Despite the rage flowing off Sanzo in waves, this time when Gojyo kissed his lips they softened, parted a little, and if not kissing him back exactly, were at least willing to receive.

Gojyo settled his body into Sanzo's with a soft grunt, and kept kissing.

This time when Sanzo pushed him away he let him, taking a step backwards so they weren't touching any more. He shivered, suddenly alone with the onslaught of the cold night air, and waited for the blow to fall.

But it didn't. Instead Sanzo reached into his pocket and pulled out another cigarette. His hands were trembling, Gojyo noted with some satisfaction.

"Never do that again," Sanzo said, "or I'll kill you."

"Sure," said Gojyo. "You run to your little whores instead. But don't pretend they give you what you need. Because now you can't ever believe that there wasn't one person on this stupid planet who would have given it to you for free, even though he knew every inch of your black, miserable heart," Gojyo said. "And for the record, if I catch any bastard sniffing around you again, they're pulp, because it eats me up inside like poison to know you'd rather fuck them than me. So there. Now you know."

He stood still, braced himself, ready for Sanzo to hit him. But Sanzo didn't. He watched Gojyo, his eyes narrowed, smoke curling past his face from the cigarette he held limply between his fingers.

"Idiot," Sanzo said.

"You got that right," spat Gojyo. "Goodnight, Sanzo."

He turned away, ready to go back inside, to crawl under the covers and have a long, hard, miserable think about what he'd done, when something caught at his wrist. Someone. Sanzo. Sanzo had a hold of his wrist, firm but not painful.

"I mean it," Gojyo said, not turning back, not even looking. "Yell at me all you want, but you can't change that. You know I mean it."

"I think it's best if we keep this to ourselves."

Sanzo's voice was low. Steadier than it had any right to be.

"Oh, don't worry, Sanzo-sama. Your secret's safe with me."

Then Sanzo tugged on his arm, pulling him back and around. Gojyo found himself face to face with Sanzo again, bare skin up against that soft sweater, and he could see things in Sanzo's face he'd never thought he'd see. Uncertainty. Confusion. A deep, almost visceral fear. But Sanzo was still Sanzo, and it was there only for a second or two, just long enough to make Gojyo stop in his tracks and stand there, frowning and confused like Goku when Hakkai gave him a maths problem he couldn't deal with. And while Gojyo stood there gaping, Sanzo pulled him in closer still, and kissed him.

Their bodies fit together perfectly, which was weird, considering they were both bony bastards. But there was no fumbling or squirming or getting it wrong. They just fit. Sanzo's kiss was hard and urgent, but just clumsy enough that Gojyo could be certain he didn't do this very often. Subtly, Gojyo took the lead. Nibbling on Sanzo's lower lip. Slipping his tongue in just far enough that Sanzo could feel it. Moving his mouth with Sanzo's, finding a slow, natural rhythm. He tried to stop, once, but Sanzo wouldn't let him, followed his mouth as he pulled back, kept kissing without missing a beat.

Gojyo cradled Sanzo's head in his hands, thumbs smoothing over his perfect cheekbones as they finally pulled apart. Sanzo's lips were swollen, wet, still slightly parted. Gojyo thought it was the most erotic thing he had ever seen.

"We should go somewhere," he said.

"Any ideas?"

"No. Shit." Gojyo tried to coax his brain into thinking. "Yes. There's that outbuilding at the back. Where they tried to make us put Hakuryuu."

"The stables?"

"Yeah."

Sanzo gave this a moderate amount of consideration then sighed. "Alright."

Gojyo wanted to pump the air with his fist, but decided it wasn't a good idea.

It was very simple to break into the stable, which was only held closed by a rusty padlock and an even rustier hasp. Fortunately it was clean, smelling of fresh hay, leather and horses. There was a torch on a shelf just inside the door; Gojyo flipped it on.

"We should have done this yesterday, when there were rooms," Gojyo said.

"If you're going to complain we can forget it."

Gojyo knew how stubborn Sanzo could get with his threats, so he shut his mouth and found a horse blanket which didn't have too much evidence of horse on it, and spread it out on a pile of clean hay.

Sanzo surveyed it critically, but he didn't complain when Gojyo lay down on the blanket and tugged Sanzo down with him.

"You're cold," Sanzo said. His features were softened by the torchlight, giving his normally pale skin a distinct glow.

"Getting warmer," said Gojyo, with a wolfish smile.

"Idiot. You should have put a shirt on. We're getting close to the mountains. It gets cold at night."

"So warm me up some more."

Sanzo made an irritated sort of noise, but he didn't object to being kissed. After a while Gojyo slipped a hand under his jumper, tracing the soft skin up his sides, around his shoulder blades, down his spine. Sanzo shifted closer, and to Gojyo's surprise he mirrored Gojyo's actions. Gojyo hadn't been quite sure what sex with Sanzo would really be like. In his fantasies (he could admit now to the fantasies) Sanzo was very virginal and uptight at first, and then at some point would surrender and beg Gojyo to fuck him, wailing like a girl. If he dared to attempt anything more realistic, he thought Sanzo would be passive, in that 'I don't give a shit' sort of way he usually did anything remotely enjoyable. But this was... this was amazing. Sanzo's touch was tentative but knowing in its way; for once in his life the man was co-operating. When Gojyo raised the sweater up to Sanzo's armpits, Sanzo raised his arms to help Gojyo slip it off for him. When Gojyo kissed Sanzo's collarbone, Sanzo arched his neck and twisted his fingers in Gojyo's hair. When Gojyo trailed his fingers across Sanzo's nipple and bent his head to lick and nip at it, Sanzo growled appreciatively and grabbed Gojyo's arse in return.

More kissing, and things got heated fast. Sanzo was soon grinding against Gojyo's hip, smoothing one hand along Gojyo's thigh, while Gojyo was daring to move down from Sanzo's spine to the waistband of his jeans. Sanzo wriggled a bit and Gojyo realised he'd undone the button of his jeans, giving Gojyo room to slip his hand inside. Sanzo's skin was soft and his butt was perfectly firm and rounded, and Gojyo wanted to see it naked.

Then Sanzo found the hard ridge of Gojyo's erection and Gojyo was lost. Sanzo's long, clever fingers made short work of his zip and wasted no time in shoving denim out of the way to get what he wanted. Gojyo gasped and panted and shoved into Sanzo's touch. Sanzo gave a little grunt of satisfaction, and stroked. Long, careful strokes, not enough to get him off, not yet, but enough to drive him wild.

" Get these off." Sanzo tugged at Gojyo's jeans, and knelt up. Gojyo did as he was told, collapsing back naked onto the blanket and pulling Sanzo down with him. But Sanzo shifted down Gojyo's body, watching Gojyo through long strands of fine blond hair as he very slowly dragged his tongue over the length of Gojyo's cock.

Gojyo cried out, grabbing fistfuls of blanket as Sanzo went down on him. His cock was enveloped in warm, wet heaven. Sanzo's fist closed around the root, fingertips grazing his balls. And then Sanzo began to suck.

There was a lot to be said for a man with an oral fixation.

Gojyo's hips began to rock, and he knew he couldn't take much more of this.

"Wait," he panted out. "Too close."

Sanzo let Gojyo's cock drop from his mouth. "I can take it."

Gojyo tried very, very hard not to let himself think on the fact that Sanzo had just offered to let him come down his throat, and sat up. "Your turn," he managed to gasp. "On your hands and knees."

Sanzo gave him a narrow-eyed glare, still not exactly comfortable with taking anything remotely resembling an order, but he shifted to his knees, at least, and when Gojyo got behind him and gently pushed at his shoulder, he fell into position, head dropping between his arms. Gojyo worked his hands down the broad muscles of Sanzo's back, between his shoulder blades, over his skinny waist and hips, to the top of his jeans. He reached around to release the last couple of buttons, then pulled them back, carefully because Sanzo wore nothing underneath.

He happened to know that Sanzo _never_ wore anything underneath, and the thought made him smile. So many possibilities.

He trailed his hair down Sanzo's back, paused to kiss the dip before the arch of his buttocks. Sanzo gasped.

Gojyo smiled to himself, and kissed it again. One hand steady on Sanzo's flank, he kissed the smooth, babysoft skin of Sanzo's arse, working his way down to his thigh, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss. Then across to the other leg, up to the other buttock, kiss, kiss, kiss, with just a tiny bit of tongue now. He paused back at the base of Sanzo's spine. He licked. Licked in circles down and around, losing himself in the scent of Sanzo's skin, clean and warm like sunshine.

Very slowly he moved one hand to each of Sanzo's thighs, and tugged them gently apart. He paused to lavish attention on Sanzo's balls. While his mouth and tongue were busy there, occasionally nipping at the sensitive skin at Sanzo's inner thighs, his fingers worked their way down the cleft of Sanzo's buttocks, stopping to stroke his hole in tiny, feathery motions. He drew back, checking the tension in Sanzo's body, making sure he was okay with this.

Sanzo was holding his breath, all but quivering under Gojyo's fingertips.

Gojyo dipped his head, stuck out his tongue, and licked.

Sanzo whimpered. Honest to God whimpered.

"You like that, Sanzo-sama?"

"Yes," hissed Sanzo, begrudgingly. "Just don't st... oh..."

Gojyo licked again, and Sanzo's voice tailed off into a breathy gasp. Gojyo smiled to himself, relishing a power over Sanzo he'd never ever dreamed he'd have.

A few more moments and Sanzo was trembling under his touch. Wherever Gojyo touched him - his back, his hip, his shoulder - he shook. His fingers were balled into fists, clutching at the straw underneath them. His cock was rock hard, shiny-wet at the tip where Gojyo smoothed his thumb.

"I want to fuck you," Gojyo breathed into Sanzo's ear, ruffling soft, golden hair. "Can I fuck you?"

Sanzo paused, breathing heavily, a frown wrinkling his forehead. Gojyo stroked the long sweep of his back, the curve of his buttocks. "Need something," said Sanzo. "I haven't...."

"You're a virgin?"

"No, you moron, it's just been a while, is all."

Gojyo let that sink in, battling for a moment with the need to get Sanzo to confess the names of every single person he'd had sex with, so that he, Gojyo, could go and kill them. Or at least maim them slightly.

"Have you got any, or not?" Sanzo growled, impatiently.

"What? Oh. Right." Gojyo fumbled for his jeans, then fumbled for the pockets. Found his wallet, and inside a couple of sachets of lube he'd swipe from the rented room the night before. "How d'you want it?"

"Like this," Sanzo panted. "And get the fuck on with it."

Gojyo ripped the packet open with his teeth and squirted gel over Sanzo's hole. It was probably cold (he secretly hoped it was, it would teach Sanzo for being so impatient), but Sanzo didn't flinch. Gojyo started to spread it around with one careful finger, and Sanzo's shoulders dropped, his head resting on his forearms now, arse raised in the air. Begging for it.

Gojyo cursed under his breath and slicked his cock with one hand as he slipped a finger of the other into Sanzo's hole. It was agonisingly slow going; for all that Sanzo was willing he was still tense, and his body strongly resisted Gojyo's attempts to penetrate him further than the first knuckle of his finger. Gojyo bent over Sanzo's back and kissed his neck, his hair, his ear.

"Not gonna hurt you," he said. "You want to do this, you gotta let me in."

Sanzo scrubbed his forehead on his arm, and muttered something Gojyo couldn't quite catch.

"Trust me," Gojyo said. "I know you think I'm a pervert and an arsehole and you're probably at least half right, but this is going to be good. For both of us. Now breathe, you stubborn bastard, and let me in."

Sanzo tensed up so hard for a moment that Gojyo thought he might just explode. But a second later air rushed from Sanzo's lungs in a long, controlled hiss, like Hakkai when he directed his chi, and suddenly the body that had been so determinedly tight and closed was relaxing under Gojyo's touch. Muscles shifting and lengthening, limbs stretching, and Sanzo shifted back, opened up, and Gojyo's finger sank in all the way. He swirled it around, twisting gently, waiting for Sanzo to tense up again, but he didn't. He rocked his hips slowly, graceful and strong as a cat, and when Gojyo slipped another finger in alongside the first he let out a long groan of pleasure that resonated along Gojyo's spine and made his cock throb.

It was all Gojyo could do to keep from mounting Sanzo and fucking him like a dog, but somehow he managed to stay focused. Only when Sanzo was slick and managing three fingers without any trouble did he kneel behind that perfect arse and line up his aching cock with Sanzo's hole.

He slid inside slowly, painfully slowly, determined to treasure every minute of it. Sanzo held still, breathing hard, making soft little noises into the straw. Finally Gojyo was in to the hilt, his balls resting against Sanzo's, his hands gripping Sanzo's hips, his heart pounding. Sanzo was tight, very tight, but slick and willing and incredibly hot.

He began to move, resisting Sanzo's early attempts at speeding things up. He stroked Sanzo's hip, his chest, his belly. Reached down for his cock and let it slide easily in his fist.

"Gojyo," Sanzo moaned, and sank his teeth into his own arm as if to keep from yelling. His cock jerked in Gojyo's hand.

"Yeah," Gojyo said. "Me too."

Sanzo was quiet then, rocking in time with Gojyo's thrusts, breath coming in short gasps. Gojyo jacked him fast, buried his face in Sanzo's neck and breathed in the soft, clean scent of Sanzo's skin. He licked the soft, downy hair behind his ear, closed his teeth on the lobe.

And then suddenly Sanzo did yell out, just one, short bark, and squirted into Gojyo's hand. Long, streams of it, warm and wet and sticky and _fuck_ but Gojyo wanted to feel that down his throat some day, and on his skin, fucking _everywhere_, and if Sanzo usually came this much he'd probably be able to cover him with it head to foot all in one go. That thought was too much, and Gojyo only managed another couple of short, hard thrusts before he came himself. There was nothing then but pure, aching pleasure, and by the time Gojyo's body had finished spasming, he had completely lost all capability for rational thought.

He lay there for a while, twitching and making weird little gasping noises, until he gradually became aware of Sanzo squirming under him. He'd collapsed onto his front at some point, Gojyo draped over him like a skinny excuse for a blanket, and he was complaining.

Gojyo just grinned to himself and rolled limply to the side, barely noticing the sting of cold air as he slipped from Sanzo's body.

"Fuck," said Sanzo. "Y'r heavy."

"I know," said Gojyo contentedly. "'s all muscle."

Sanzo gave a feeble version of his usual dismissive snort.

Gojyo sighed happily, and reached for his cigarettes. He lit two, and Sanzo rolled onto his side to take one.

"So," said Gojyo, his mind just clear enough to be dangerous. "What now?"

"We go back to the inn and get some sleep."

"Yeah, right. And after that?"

"We get up again and head West." Sanzo yawned.

"Shit, you're a stubborn bastard."

Sanzo glared at him.

"You know what I mean," Gojyo said, sudden fear balling in his stomach as he realised exactly how bad he would feel if this turned out to be a one-time deal.

"It would take a mind-reader to know what's going on in that idiotic head of yours."

"I'd say you've just had a rare and valuable insight." Gojyo smirked.

Sanzo grunted, and took a long drag of his cigarette. He rolled onto his back and they smoked in silence for a while, Sanzo staring up at the roof of the stable while Gojyo stared at Sanzo. For once, Sanzo didn't seem to mind.

"You go back first," Sanzo said, eventually. "I'll come along in a while."

"Oh. Right." Gojyo sighed and reached for his jeans.

"Try not to make too much noise."

"Of course, Sanzo-sama. Any other requests? Would you like me to turn down your blankets in preparation for your holiness's return to his divine boudoir?"

"Just don't get your stupidity all over the sheets."

The afterglow was rapidly receding, and Gojyo was feeling more and more pissed off and as needy as a fucking teenage _girl_, and hating himself for it. So he got to his feet, buttoned his jeans and headed for the door.

"Gojyo?"

He turned to look over his shoulder. Sanzo was still sprawling naked on the blanket, so beautiful it stole Gojyo's breath.

"Thanks," Sanzo said, gruffly. The light from the torch caught his hair and it burned like the sun.

"Yeah," Gojyo said. "Whatever."

*

Gojyo had been lying in bed for longer than he expected when the door finally opened and Sanzo slipped inside. Goku and Hakkai were asleep, Goku snoring to himself. Gojyo turned his face to the wall.

He heard the rustle of Sanzo getting out of his clothes, the clink of his cigarette lighter being dropped carefully onto the bedside table. But when Gojyo expected the creak of bedsprings there were footsteps. Sanzo was moving across the room, quiet as a cat, until he stopped by Gojyo's bed. Gojyo held his breath while Sanzo whispered in his ear, his voice thick and sweet as syrup.

"Next time you can suck my dick, pervert."

Gojyo turned around to look Sanzo in the face, and his cock twitched at the heat he saw in those familiar purple eyes.

"That a promise?" he whispered

Sanzo shrugged, a sexy little half-smile on his face that Gojyo had never dreamed him capable of.

Then Sanzo leaned down, and for a fleeting second brushed his lips across Gojyo's. Then he was gone.

And Gojyo lay there and listened to Sanzo's breath slow to sleep, a grin on his face so broad it made his jaw ache.

 

_~owari~_


End file.
